You see, this evening should have been simple, however, it was nothing of the sorts. It turned out to be a horror story and an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Fast forward to me on the ground…him taking my clothes off…me expressing how he could. Not. Go. Inside. Of. Me. Him stating that he didn’t think he would get another chance after that night. Me saying no. Him holding my arms down. Me saying stop. Him telling me that I was almost 30 and I should have done this by now. Me…disappearing. Him not finishing and getting off of me. Him asking me to finish him off. Me sitting on the ground in the corner trying to figure out how to leave. Me asking him to walk me to my car. Me…driving home, wondering what happened.

I was a young mother with two very small children. He was the first doctor that seemed interested in trying to help me. The second time I saw him, he had me undress to examine me. One minute he was listening to my lungs, the next, his bare fingers were in my vagina. Now that I have typed that last sentence, I actually feel physically ill.

Clothes were taken off and kisses were exchanged as we moved to her bed. Once naked, I realized it was too much for me and told her I wanted to stop and sleep. She initially agreed but soon resumed her touching and groping.

I asked him what it was and he just explained it was some kinky stuff he bought. He blind folded me and tied my arms. I admit I was into it until he started yelling out these racial slurs… and after that he penetrated me. I still kinda liked it.
But all of a sudden he shoved his penis in my anis and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was trying to get him to stop and push him off me but my arms were tied and he was way stronger than I thought he was. I just pretty much laid there and waited for him to be finished. That was the most agonizing and excruciating pain I ever felt in my life and it seemed like it lasted forever.

Here's what I remember: He completely undressed me and pushed me up against the washer/dryer and then onto the floor. It literally felt like I was having an out of body/mind experience. The only things I can remember saying were "Do you think (his girlfriend's name) would be okay with this?" He said "probably not" and kept going. I remember watching him spit onto his hands because I was too dry. At some point, I said "If this is going to happen, then she needs to be here" and pushed him off. I put my clothes back on and stumbled back upstairs. I said this wanting to escape, and knowing that I would never want to do anything with both of them. I did NOT want this to happen at all.

I kept telling him to please get off and that's when he pulled my hair and dragged me to the edge of my bed. I kept saying no no no and no over again but I guess he was hard of hearing that day. I was frightened but I still managed to break my arm free of his grip.

Eventually he asked for sex. I said no. He kept trying to convince me. I said no. He gave up and went back to kissing. Later i got ready to go to bed and put on a pair of shorts. He kept touching my ass and fooling around but I kept saying no sex. I felt a sharp pain inside me and i cried out. He had forced himself inside me.

I walked home tonight. Alone and late. I know I know what an incredibly irresponsible thing to do. Then the anger the rage of my fear, my politeness, and my rape bubbled that shit would not be contained. Walked for over a mile grunting and yelling and realizing that shit that had been deposited in my soul.

That's how things started but it began to escalate. He would began to pressure me give him handjobs and perform oral sex. I started to tell him no, and I didn't want to. But he would force my head down, or say if I loved him I would. It didn't matter that I said no or was crying. He wouldn't stop until he was done. Afterwards he would apologize for it, and say he didn't mean to.

You did all that to me, and probably more that I’ve blanked out, after I told you I was molested as a child. I can’t believe that was 5 years ago. You’re the only person I can honestly say i Hate. I hope you never find happiness.

I felt guilty identifying with people who had experienced more violent encounters, so I downplayed it in my head, and to others. I instantly became more withdrawn sexually. I stopped having sex for about a year, and when I started again I would often have panic attacks during sex. Then I would feel guilty for ruining the sexual experience for the other participant.

I have had a memory recently that i had never had before, so I'm not sure how real or accurate it is. I can see someone on top on me, with them holding my mouth shut & they are having intercourse with me. The person doing this is just a blur, I can't see any details about them, but i can tell where I am & it seems too real to me to be fabricated by my own mind. I am just struggling with the fact of is this true & accurate & has my mind just buried it deep down, or am I crazy & imagining it.

I felt really bad about it and I blamed myself for it, I mean I did nothing about it.. ever since I don’t trust guys anymore. I don’t feel comfortable with my body anymore and I have serious trust issues.

But at this point it wasn’t really even my body anymore. It was his. He had control of it, and that’s all it I was to him. A body. A limp lifeless body. It felt as if he had taken my humanity away from me, as if I wasn't even a person anymore, as if I was just a thing.

I just lied on the stairs, shaking and silent. James hugged me tightly and the other two went to tell the chief. A few weeks later, nothing wound up happening and he left on a plane to his next duty station.

I just sat in my friend’s room naked crying until he came back. He came in and asked where my clothes were and I explained I didn’t know what happened but that someone was in the room with me and left as soon as I figured out what was going on.

Growing up was hard. I used to attend a catholic pre-school from the age of three to around five years old. Every Friday a priest who we had to call ‘father’ would come every Friday for prayers and he would

I keep seeing him around college and around town and every time I see him I get tight in my chest and want to throw up, even though I'm not sure if it was even rape or assault or if it was just two teens under a bridge.

It wasn't until the Hastag #metoo surfaced, when i realized… that what had happened was not ok. I did not provoke her into thinking Sex would be OK and what i wanted.
I didn't kiss her back because i was horny, but because i was scared.

I'm a virgin, I do not think at all that J might want sex. Soon however he is touching me all over. I am less comfortable. This is not really what I want. I go along with it, afraid and embarrassed to stop something that I feel I am partly responsible for. I've led him on. Suddenly, things quite literally get out of hand. He's pushing his penis in to me and it's agony.

I didn't really know that it "counted" as rape. He cuddled up to me after raping me, and that hurts so much when I remember that. How dare he? It hurt me for so long. It is hard to tell people, especially when they tell me to move on, or be stronger.

I'm epileptic & in certain situations where I get stressed I can have a seizure, this happened & before i knew it i was coming to on his sofa but felt him pulling my underwear down when he was laying behind me…

However,Deepika also revealed her depression story,in 2013,after which I revealed my depression status to the society in 2012. Are there same people with same feelings? Is Deepika inspired my story or Am I inspired by her.

Knowing the details of that moment won't do anything for you anyway, and I've unburdened myself in the necessary and applicable safe spaces. It's been far too hard as it is walking around smiling when I'm crying inside.

A couple of months ago I broke up with my boyfriend of two years. I always had a feeling that something wasn’t right as our relationship continued, and now that I know for sure what happened to me was rape,

After some hours of sleep I woke up. Pictures in my head. I tried to convince myself it wasn't real, that wasn't me who experienced that. I was there, but I was just watching. Watching my body get raped, but my soul already died.

His low voice came back into my ear, “I know that you want this. Just relax. Nothing will hurt if you relax.” My mind told my body to go numb as I thought to myself, don’t be stupid, of course you don’t want to be in pain.
That was a lie. As soon as I felt the pain, something in my brain reconnected and I pushed away as hard as I could which was difficult seeing as he’s 200 pounds of muscle.

The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we will be here.